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Weekly Drabble Challenge: Infamous Words #2 - Results

It is a little known fact that some of the most famous sayings in the world were probably murmured by wizards and witches but for the most part some of the things that come out of wizard folk is quite insane.

Your prompt for this week is to write a drabble integrating the quote below:

“Peanut butter [is] the pâté of childhood.” ~ Florence Fabricant

Keep in mind that whoever says the quote above doesn't have to be the exact author of the words [in this case, Ms. Fabricant] it is just for fun; I want to see where you guys go with the prompt. Go crazy! XD

In fact, you dont' have to integrate the quote verbatim, but it should be implied that you used it for your inspiration!

The following form must be used when submitting your drabble responses to this post -

Name:
House:
Title:
Warnings:
Words:

Winners will be awarded 15, 10, and 5 points respectively.

All drabbles must be less than 500 words; All standard grammar rules, and MNFF submissions guidelines apply.

The challenge will be up for a week, and be closed exactly a week later (March 26thth)

MithrilQuill and I will be judging them and posting results a couple of days later which may or may not extend into a week or two. >.>
-cough-

Teh Ebil Gato Loco is a very busy ebil genius. She has people to boss around, plans to put into action...that sort of deal so she forgets to be a good barmaid.

All questions should be referred to the Question Corner - Do not post questions here. Only drabbles!

Other than that...have fun!

~Gato Loco & Mith~

I've left moddom/fandom...though don't be surprised if I get caught lurking once in a blue moon.
All questions pertinent to Ravenclaw need to be sent to ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor
If you wish to keep in touch, feel free to friend me on LJ - I don't friend anyone under the age of 18. Sorry!

Lucinda was running through the house trying to get her things together for her first day at school. She was not blessed with the magical abilities that her brothers had so she was attending a Muggle school.

Seeing his daughter rushing past him, Draco grabbed her by the arm, completely stopping her from going any farther.

“WHAT is that on your face?” Draco surveyed Lucinda’s outfit from top to bottom. He handed her his handkerchief to take care of the excessive makeup. Before she could answer, he continued.

“And you are most certainly not wearing that . . . that <i>thing</i> you call a top, either.”

Lucinda rolled her eyes as she walked away from her father. He was always so determined to make sure she never grew up; it was so unfair! She looked to her mother for support only to see Hermione nod in agreement. Draco smirked in satisfaction but quickly made a face when he saw Hermione spreading a sticky brown substance on two slices of bread.

“Ugh, that’s disgusting! What in Salazar’s name is that mess?” He walked closer and smelled the knife in her hand. A dollop of peanut butter stuck to his nose but he did not notice.

Hermione laughed when she saw it. “Draco, this is peanut butter. Don’t you remember when I used this in my cookie recipe?”

Draco took a moment to think. “Granger, you used it in the recipe. It’s like flour – you don’t eat it separately.

“Draco, dear,” she wiped the gooey treat off of his nose, giggling when he gave her a look of irritation. “Peanut butter is the pâté of childhood! This happens to be your daughter’s favourite sandwich.”

Looking from the sandwich to the stairs where he saw his sixteen year old daughter only moments prior, Draco asked, “Well them why is it she loves this childhood treat so much but she insists on trying to walk out the door looking like a lady of the night?”

Hermione’s face fell in shock. “Watch your language.” Then, getting an idea, Hermione smiled. “Fine. Try a bite of this. If you don’t like it, I will throw it out and she can start eating lunchmeat sandwiches instead.” She handed the peanut butter and jelly sandwich to her husband.

Looking at it questionably, Draco took the sandwich reluctantly and tried a bite. Such a childish snack! He took a bite and chewed for a minute, his face falling in defeat.

Name:TheworldonlyknowsHouse:SlytherinTitle: No one can ever live without peanut butter. Ever!Warnings: NoneWords: 409.

“You have never tried peanut butter?” Ron asked Hermione astounded. His mouth was agape and small squeaking noises could be heard echoing off the walls of his mouth.

“No Ronald I haven’t. I have never had the inclination to try Peanut butter Hermione answered looking disgustedly into Ron’s open cavern.

“But, but!” Ron began to splutter.

“Don’t but, but, me Ron. I always prefered tuna and lettuce sandwiches; beef on special occasions.” Hermione informed Ron whilst shooting a devilish look at Harry who had been sniggering throughout the conversion on the topic of the bread filling.

“Beef on special occasions,” Ron mocked as Hermione returned to her meal.

“Ron, not everyone likes peanut butter. My cousin Dudley hates it. I was never allowed the stuff when I stayed at the Dursley’s.” Harry told him as he began spreading the viscous mustard-yellow spread on wholemeal bread.

Hermione looked up from her chicken salad and saw splodges of the spread plummet onto the table. She crinkled up her nose to block the tantalising vapours that were attacking her nostrils.

Ron and Harry both looked at Hermione’s facial expression and began to roll around in spontaneous spurts of laughter.

“If you think consuming countless amounts of artificial colouring and E numbers is good for your natural nutritional health then go on, I insist, eat your weight in peanut butter! Just don’t come to me when you are both rolling around arms clasped to your stomach because you have made yourselves ill.” Hermione stated as she began fumbling around for her books.

“My Gran said if you eat too much peanut butter your skin will turn a mustardy colour and it will take forever to get off,” Neville informed them as he leaned forward to hand Hermione her muggle studies book.

“Yes, yes it will,” Neville, insisted. “My Gran and I saw it happen to Mafalda Romkins when we were at St Mungo’s. It was terrible.” Neville informed them.

“See, if you do happen to turn yellow it will be your own fault!” Hermione added before she stood up with unnecessary force. “Don’t come crying to me!” She added just before Ron could call back to her.

“My mum used to always say ‘Peanut butter is the pâté of childhood’ and she was right. No one should grow up without peanut butter; ever!”

Ron looked own at his daughter tiredly. She looked so eager, and he had so much to do.

‘Oh, go on then,’ he said. Rose squealed with joy and grabbed a plastic knife out of the draw. ‘Be careful!’ he said. The last thing he saw before he let the kitchen was Rose grabbing a jar of peanut butter, sticking the knife in and slopping it all over the bread. He sighed. He would deal with that later.

‘Hermione!’ he shouted up the stairs. His wife suddenly appeared at the door of their bedroom, her hair looking very strange. One side seemed quite tame but the other was bushier than Ron had ever seen it.

‘What?’ she said with a desperate look on her face.

Ron tried not to wince.

‘Nothing, I just -’

‘Look, Ron, I am having a bit of a disaster here!’ she said, grabbing a comb and trying to drag it through her hair. ‘So unless what you have to say is urgent, then please can it wait?’

‘Fine,’ said Ron, turning away to walk down the stairs.

He entered the living room and groaned inwardly. Hugo’s suitcase was lying open on the floor, with only his school robes packed in there, and rather untidily at that.

‘HUGO!’ Ron shouted. He checked his watch. They had one hour to get to the station before the train left.

His son appeared through from behind the sofa, his toothbrush in one hand and a spellbook in the other.

‘Dad!’ he said, looking panicked.

‘Hugo! You were supposed to pack yesterday!’

‘Yes well, I kind of got a bit distracted with some Exploding Snap cards…’

“Harry! James ate my sandwich!” shouted a young brown haired boy as he ran into the living room.

“What’s wrong, Teddy?” asked his godfather, looking up from the paper with spirited, brilliantly green eyes.

“James ate my sandwich!” the boy repeated with more anger and childish resentment than before. His hair turned a dark shade of red as he spoke causing Harry to grin.

“James!” Harry called out as he stood up from his favourite armchair, stretching his arms high above his head.

A smaller, younger boy with bright red hair and equally bright brown eyes came sulking in the room, a sticky toffee-coloured substance smeared upon his somewhat freckly face. He walked slowly over to his father and looked up at him, batting his long eyelashes sweetly.

“Alright, Teddy, calm down,” said Harry softly, placing his hand on his godson’s shoulder before bending down so that he was eye level with his eldest son. “James, if you didn’t eat his sandwich, then why is there peanut butter all over your face?”

James’ eyes widened in shock as he realized that he had been caught; however, he grinned slyly then replied sheepishly, “I stole it from the jar?”

Harry was reminded of his wife’s twin brothers and chuckled. Then he asked, “How about I make you another sandwich, Teddy?”

The child’s eyes lit up and he smiled.

“Can I have one too, Daddy?” little James asked, showing his peanut butter grin again.

Harry nodded, and then the three of them walked into the kitchen and began looking for the supplies needed to make the sandwiches. He found the plates and the butter knife, even the bread, but no matter how hard Harry searched the kitchen he could not find a single jar of the sticky nut paste.

“What are you looking for, dear?” Ginny questioned, entering the kitchen with their infant son Albus.

“Peanut butter to make Teddy here another sandwich because James ate his,” Harry answered absently as he closed yet another cabinet.

“Silly goose, it’s in the pantry,” commented his wife cheerfully. She walked over to the cupboard and opened the door, allowing Harry to peer inside.

The small room was filled with all sorts of household items, but more importantly, there were two whole shelves full of unopened peanut butter jars.

“Ginny, why, on earth, do you have that much peanut butter? It would take me six years to eat all that!” Harry said brightly, laughing to himself as he stared at the stock of the nutty treat.

“Oh, Harry, don’t you know that peanut butter is the pâté of childhood?” she asked playfully, taking a jar from the shelf. “Come on boys, I’ll make you some more sandwiches.”

Name: solemnlyswear_xHouse: GryffindorTitle: Like you, DaddyWarnings: None - except that I somehow managed to make a drabble about peanut butter unhappy. Words: 443

As a ten-year-old, Dean Thomas was certainly in the minority as a hater of peanut butter sandwiches. Most kids at school brought a PB&J in a brown paper sack everyday, but never Dean. Give him turkey, give him ham – just keep his bread far away from the sticky spread.

Dean’s stepfather had asked him about it once, after being turned down on an offer to make him a PB&J. “You know, Dean,” he said with a smile, “peanut butter is the pâté of childhood - I can't believe you don't like it. You really should give it another try.”

“No, thanks,” Dean muttered, his dejected tone out of place. “I’ll just have a cheese sandwich.”

His stepfather had given him a curious look, but let the subject drop, noticing that for whatever the reason, it was not something to press. He never brought it up again, and neither did Dean. Of course, there was a reason that peanut butter made Dean sick to his stomach, but it was one he never shared with anyone, not even his mother. It was a memory, one from when he was very small, and one he was amazed that he could remember with perfect clarity.

“Dean,” Edward Thomas said exasperatedly, “will you please eat your sandwich? You need to have something for lunch.”

“Dean,” Mr. Thomas tried again, his tone persuasive, “peanut butter tastes really good, like candy.” He picked the sandwich off his son’s plate and took a small bite. “It’s my favorite type of sandwich. Here, Dean, try a bite.”

Not wanting to miss out on anything his father loved, Dean hesitantly took the sandwich and bit off the tiniest of bites. After a few moments, a smile was spread across his face, and the sandwich was almost completely gone. Peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth, Dean mumbled, “You’re right, Daddy, like candy. It’s my favorite too, like you.” He paused a moment before adding, “Can we have peanut butter again tomorrow? Please?”

Mr. Thomas smiled. “Of course, Dean. And any other day you want.”

The next morning, a Sunday, Dean had awoken to find his father nowhere in sight. Walking into his parents' bedroom, he saw his mother sitting on the bed and the bureau drawers pulled opened haphazardly. Dean had crawled onto the bed and asked why his father wasn't here. His mother explained, tear tracks evident on her cheeks, that Daddy wasn't going to come back and she was sorry, sorry, so sorry.

“I’m so hungry, Sev. I hope the house elves have made something good for lunch. I can’t even remember the last time I ate,” complained the red headed Gryffindor girl as she walked with the dark haired Slytherin boy.

“I believe that would be yesterday evening,” replied the boy, a mock grin playing on his face which he tried his best to disguise as a sneer, but to no avail.

"Really, well, Mr. Severus 'I’m so smart I know everything' Snape, what did I have for dinner then?" enquired the girl, half amused, half annoyed that he would remember when she had her last meal, considering the fact that they didn’t even eat at the same table.

“That’s easy, you had an egg sandwich, with the crusty bits peeled off as usual, an almost full glass of pumpkin juice because that Mary girl came and dragged you out with her before you could finish it and for desert, you had a spoonful of treacle pudding but only because Lupin offered it to you and you didn’t want to turn him down and tell him you hate it.” The boy recited, a smug note in his voice.

“How do you know that? Even I don’t remember that?” The girl looked genuinely surprised.

“Well, I watched you...”

And though the boy did not say anymore, the girl understood.

“Sev, what do you say we go to the kitchen and ask the house elves for some peanut butter sandwiches? We can take them out by the lake and then we won’t have to bother sitting at those big house tables.”

The boy looked up with a rare smile and the girl knew no further answer was needed. Together, the two 11 year olds headed hand in hand to the painting that would gain them access to the Hogwarts' kitchen.

Congratulations to the drabblers that won! Everyone had an excellent drabble, and it was hard to choose from just six entries. However, the ones below showed proper grammar, good plot, and stuck to canon. Very well done everyone! XD

First Place:
Like you, Daddy by solemnlyswear_x

Second Place:
No one can ever live without peanut butter by theworldonlyknows

Third Place:
Sandwiches by XhayleeXblackX

I've left moddom/fandom...though don't be surprised if I get caught lurking once in a blue moon.
All questions pertinent to Ravenclaw need to be sent to ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor
If you wish to keep in touch, feel free to friend me on LJ - I don't friend anyone under the age of 18. Sorry!